Silver, Gray, and Black
by NatureGirl4ever
Summary: I am the adopted brother of the boy who lived. I am the one who will help our master rise for our cause. I was given away, neglected, abused even. I will never let that happen again. No SLASH, evil Dumbledore, because I HATE him, sane Bellatrix, and language.
1. Remorse and Regret

**Alrighty, now. This is a new story I'm trying out, and it will be the one I focus most on. Now, this will be very different, and the Dark Tosser Moldyshorts (I'm sorry my love, but it had to be said XD) will be a bit OC. If you don't like that, don't read this. Bellatrix never got married, and no, I will not have her and Voldemort get together.**

**Neville Longbottom is the famous boy who lived, and he has always been Harry's enemy. When Neville is taken in by Harry's parents, Harry is neglected. Then, to make matters worse, his aunt's family moves in after Vernon Dursley lost his job. His relatives dislike him and his family, but since they cannot take out their frustration on anybody else, they beat him. All three boys were the same age, but two were specially treated, while one was cast out. He is found by one of the unlikeliest people, and is taken under her Silver wing.**  
_

Harry James Potter sat in a corner right on the border of his family's land. They owned a huge mansion, but it was surprisingly cozy for such a large place. Harry didn't think it was home though. How could it be, when his cousin was influencing his adopted brother in such a way? The two boys hit him whenever they were angry, and loved to watch Harry being abused. Lily and James had no idea what was going on, and perhaps leaving them with an only child would have taught them to cherish him more. He would have been firmly disciplined, and spoiled and fussed over because he was alone. Harry winced as his broken rib was jolted. Many kids his age would have been crying now, but Harry was used to it. He had been abused and neglected for six years, and the pain was easily dealt with.

It was in that position with those thoughts that he was found later that day, by a woman clad in an elegant, but simple black dress. Her hair was curly, and slightly askew, but beautifully brushed and arranged in a casual, but slightly dark manner, as it fell in ringlets around her face. When she first saw the child, her maternal instincts had kicked in. She was also shocked by the power of his magical core. It was pitch black, and swirled with the power of a twelve year old, even though the boy was only seven. When she looked closer, she realized that the wounds he had recieved were from muggles, and judging from the fact that he was a mix of Lily and James, it seemed that his magical relatives had done nothing to stop it. She felt rage. No wizard should have to go through this sort of humiliation from muggles. Normally she didn't mind when a victim's family didn't step in, although it ruined her fun slightly, but this boy had been beaten by muggles. Any wizard with a shred of self respect would stop this. It was a disgrace to wizarding community. She approached the boy with an unusually kind expression on her face.

"Tell me child, what is your name?" she asked him. He instinctively cringed away from her. She pulled out her wand, and the boy seemed to try to blend in with the wall. "I will not hurt you, child. Please tell me your name."

"Harry, miss. Why are you here? Who are you?" He still seemed wary of her, although he had relaxed slightly when she had said that she would not harm him.

"My name is Bellatrix." She gauged his reaction carefully. Any wizard who had heard her name, whether they were able to attack or not, would have flinched away from her. She recieved a shock when the boy smiled and stood up, even though he was injured severely.

"You were the Dark Lord's right hand, right?" he asked. Bellatrix gave a nod. "Can you take me away?" She was shocked by his question.

"Why?" was her response.

"The Dark Lord should have killed Neville. If I join you, I will have the chance to do so. Ever since he came, I have been beaten and humiliated. He was always a spoiled brat. He ruined my life. I have had to spend hours every day healing my self with my own wand. My parents never care about me, they view Longbottom as an angel that has fallen from the sky. He has seen fit to attack me for even the slightest reason, and when I tried to tell my parents two years ago, they believed I was jealous and trying to put a bad light on him. Ever since, I have learned not to show my weaknesses to them, and they would not care, anyway." Bellatrix was speechless. This boy was mature well beyond his age, and he thought like a Slytherin too. She felt a rush of pride, but was curious as to where he got a wand. Harry, seeming to have sensed her curiosity, said, "Mr. Olivander does not take sides, miss. He knew that I had been abused, and took it upon himself to train me in basic wand theory, and presented me with a set of books used to learn magic, and I have been teaching myself all sorts of spells for a year and a half." A hint of childish pride shone through his words. Then he winced. Bellatrix watched in fascination as the boy began to heal himself.

"Occurro franguntur," he murmured, as he pulled his wand out and pointed it at himself. Immediately, Bellatrix saw his torso become less ridged and creased. "Reduct dolor. Saricent, emendo, resarcio." Slowly, the bruises faded, and the cuts began to shrink. "Redintegro." The final spell was directed at his leg, which had been moved out of place. Bellatrix was stunned. Undoubtedly, the boy would become a great asset to the Dark Lord when he returned, but the main reason for her wanting to grab him and apparate was so she could take him away from these people. Bellatrix was a torturer, and took pleasure in the pain of her weaker peers, but she did not approve of child abuse. Her maternal instincts were strong, and she walked over, engulfing him in a hug. Harry was hesitant at first, but returned it quickly. Then Bellatrix gently untangled him and held him at arms length.

"Harry, do you understand what would happen if you left with me? You would live in hiding at my mansion, as we help the Dark Lord rise again. You would become my son, and would not attend Hogwarts. The only other people to know of your existence would be the Malfoys. You would never see this family again. If you did encounter them, you would be on opposite sides of a war fought for the greater good. Think carefully, before you decide." Harry took a moment to think.

"I will come with you. My family will not miss me, and the choice you offer is much better than what I had planned to do. Would I call you mom?" Bellatrix nodded.

"You may call me whatever you wish. I will raise and treat you as a son, and you will learn magic, and one day stand by my side, and we will be the Dark Lord's left and right."  
_

"Harry," Lily Potter called. There was no response from inside the house. Lily frowned. She knocked on Harry's bedroom door. Again, no one answered. "Harry, are you there?" Lily had not been inside Harry's room for the past three years, as she was busy with Neville, and knew Harry like his privacy. Or so she thought. She had never known that Harry often longed for her at night, longed for a mother's care and love. When she pushed open the door to his room, she was shocked. There were traces of blood on the sheets, and a box under his bed. Lily pulled it out to find photos of every time that he had been beaten. She felt her eyes tearing up as she looked at all of them. What horrified her was that it was Petunia and her family that did the beatings. She did not know this, but Neville had taken all the photos that involved him, and had them stashed away, where no one would find them. She rushed out of the room and onto the grounds. She screamed his name, but there was no response.  
_

Bellatrix and Harry walked down Diagon alley, both under heavy glamours, to Gringotts. Harry was not the least bit awed by the majestic marble building; having traveled there many times with his parents, the effect had worn off. They strode inside with ease, and Bellatrix undid their glamours, and the goblins immediately bowed, showing respect.

"Madam Lestrange, how may we be of service," a goblin said, inclining his head respectfully.

"Fodio, I need you to change Harry Potter's trust fund vault to receive income from mine. He has willingly left his old home, and is my magically adopted son." The goblin nodded, and went to preform his task. Bellatrix sat down, motioning for Harry to sit next to her. He did so gratefully, his leg still not fully healed. It was weak, and as hard as he tried, Harry could not hold back a wince. Bellatrix noticed, and her face flooded with concern. Many people had believed she was heartless, but few knew of the kindness and compassion that she would show for her loved ones. Yes, even though they had only spent a few hours together, Bellatrix loved Harry like a son, and would do anything for him

"Are you alright, Harry?" she asked. Harry gave a nod, and then his face twisted into a scowl.

"I hate that name! It reminds me of the Potters." His voice was cold, and Bellatrix was shocked by his hatred. She knew that he did not like his biological parents, but had never thought that his feelings ran so deep.

"Would you prefer a new name?" He nodded violently.

"I like Mortem," he decided. Bellatrix couldn't help but smirk at his choice. He did not seem to know what it meant, and what it stood for, but, one day, when he was older, she would explain. Fodio returned, and bowed them out, after giving Bellatrix a heavy bag of galleons.  
_

"James!" Lily Potter shrieked.

"Lily! What's wrong?!" James Potter came running out of the house. When he saw what his wife was looking at, he stared in shock. Lying in front of them was a piece of delicate black fabric, deliberately cut into the shape of a serpent.

"Bellatrix, she must have taken Harry!" Lily wailed in outrage. James was furious. In his mind, he did once stop to think about why Bellatrix would have taken. In that instant, every sin that he had committed against Harry was erased. He did not know that his former son went by a new name, nor did he know that he had left willingly. All he saw right now was the fact that his child was missing.

"It's okay Lils, we'll get him back, I promise."  
_

Three years later

Mortem woke in a cold sweat. This nightmare had been particularly brutal. He shuddered, and held back a sob as he crept quietly to his mom's room. The clock in the hall chimed five times, and Mortem realized it was two hours until he had to get up. He slipped under the covers, grateful for the feeling of comfort and belonging. Mortem had been sleeping alone for the past two years, but would occasionally slip under the covers with his mom after a nightmare. Bellatrix shifted slightly, but still slept. Mortem gave a sigh, and closed his eyes.

line break

Bellatrix woke to ten year old boy curled next to her. She gave a sad smile, worried about his nightmares. They should not have been continuing, but whenever Mortem saw something that reminded him of his past, bad memories would resurface. She gently shook him awake, then shooed him out of room. After a quick shower, Bellatrix threw on her clothes. She was about to walk out the door, when she heard her son's voice yell. She grabbed her wand off of the bedside table. She knew Mortem had his with him; he slept with it up his sleeve. Hearing bangs go off in the kitchen, she sprinted out the door and down the hall.


	2. Rise and Return

Bellatrix ran faster than she ever had before. She charged down the corridor with unmatched speed and grace, then leaped down the stairs like a gazelle. The front door was open, and she sprinted outside. The sight that met her was almost enough to freeze her to the spot, but she kept on going. Mortem Temarellis Lestrange was battling Lily and James Potter.

"What have you done with my son?!" Lily yelled. She was in a rage, Bellatrix could see the anger and hate behind her eyes. She obviously didn't recognize her former son. When Bellatrix had preformed the ritual that had bonded them by blood, Mortem had changed added to his chosen name, making it 'Mortemus', and his features had shifted to resemble hers, although his hair stayed the same. Lily seemed to be restraining herself, though, and seemed to believe that Mortemus was just a boy. Bellatrix snarled as she realized that James Potter had sent a cutting curse at her son, and didn't seemed to hold back much. His aim, however, gave him away. He was also aware that he was dueling a boy, and was aiming at parts that would render Mortemus incapable for a temporary amount of time, and not parts that would cause permanent damage.

"Don't touch my son you filthy mudblood!" she screamed, as she sent a hex at Lily, giving Mortemus time to fall back to her side. The spells stopped flying.

"I wasn't aware that you had a son, Bellatrix," James said, his voice menacing.

"I wasn't aware of the fact that yours was missing," Bellatrix replied, a hidden meaning in her words, which Mortemus picked up. She saw the way his eyes brightened as she subtly implied that he was only hers, and insulted the Potters with a simple sentence. "Why, as I know it, your son is currently safe at home, stuffing his face and prancing around on his broomstick. I wouldn't be surprised if he was rejoicing at the fact that the boy who ran away was gone completely."

"What do you mean?!" James yelled.

"I am talking about Neville Longbottom Potter. Now, if you are referring to the boy who ran away, then I know exactly what happened to him."

"What did you do?!" Lily shrieked, about to lunge at Bellatrix.

"She did nothing, Lily Potter," said Mortemus, speaking for the first time. "The choice he made was for himself; in fact, how I understand it is that he asked her to take him away. Believe it or not, she warned him against coming."

"How do you know? And how do you know who I am?" Lily asked, in a menacing tone.

"Why, I would have thought it obvious," Mortemus said, stepping in front of his mom. "I am going to make you pay for every single thing you ever did, James and Lily Potter. I hope you learn your lesson." Bellatrix watched in awe, and fear for the health of her son as he raised his wand. The spell he uttered was one that shocked her to the core.

"Crucio," he whispered, but all of his hate was apparent in his voice. James Potter writhed on the floor, screaming with pain. Bellatrix grabbed her son's hand, and dragged him inside. She waved her wand, and all of their belongings flew into a trunk. It had an undetectable extension charm placed on it, and Bellatrix grabbed it, before apparating. They appeared by a large mansion, with several peacocks strutting around. Bellatrix strode to the door, and pushed it open.

"Narcissa! Lucius! Come here, and bring Draco!" A family of three came hurrying to the door. "I require a place to stay until I figure out what to do!"

"Bella, what do you need?" Lucius Malfoy asked.

"We have an issue concerning the safety wards around our house. Lily and James Potter have breached them, and my son was battling both of them when I found out. He cast the Crutiartus Curse."

"And who is this?" the blond boy sneered.

"Draco, this is my son, Mortemus Temarellis Lestrange. Show him to the largest spare bedroom, and I will be up in a few minutes. I will answer your questions, no one else." Draco had paled considerably when he learned the boy he had disrespected was his cousin. He led Mortemus up the stairs, with Mortemus levitating the trunk. Narcissa had watched with an impressed expression.

"He is that advanced already?" she asked. Bellatrix nodded with a wide smirk. Lucius Malfoy led them to the living room.

"Sit, Bella, and do tell me why you are here." Bellatrix fixed him with a glare.

"I do not take orders from anyone, except the Dark Lord."

"Yes, well, while we're on the subject, it seems that our master's plans have been sped up. All we need is a few drops of the Potter boy's blood, and we can preform the ritual." Bellatrix gave a triumphant smile.

"If our Lord needs someone to get the blood, I'm sure your son can do so without effort," Narcissa offered. Bellatrix's smile vanished.

"Not a chance, Cissy. If he was sent, the only result would be several dead bodies."

"Oh? Do tell us why, Bella."

"I will only do so while my son is in the room," Bellatrix said firmly. Narcissa and her husband exchanged a surprised look.

"Well call him down Bella." Bellatrix shot her sister a glare, but walked up the stairs.  
_

Mortemus sat on the edge of his bed in the large room, though it wasn't as big has his old one back in their manor. He sighed, and waved his wand, muttering several spells under his breath. Draco had left, going outside to ride on his Nimbus 2000. The pitch black bedsheets that had been brought replaced the original silver ones, as his belongings arranged themselves in various parts of the room. Mortemus sighed, and lay down on his bed, closing his eyes. It seemed only moments later when the door opened, and his mother walked in. She sat down on the bed.

"How were you able to use the Crutiartus Curse?" she asked. Mortemus shrugged.

"It was the first spell that came to mind. I don't regret it. As to how I did it, I simply focused all my emotions and, as you would say, 'meant the spell'. I'm actually surprised it worked." Bellatrix fixed him with a stern look.

"You should not have even attempted that at such a young age. You do understand that your mind could have been shattered?" Mortemus nodded, then sighed.

"Why do the nightmares continue?" he asked quietly. Bellatrix sighed, and gave her son a quick hug, before beckoning him to the door.

"The Dark Lord is about to rise again. Do you remember my promise when I took you away?" Mortemus gave her a small smile.

"You promised that we would be the Dark Lord's right and left." Bellatrix nodded.

"Should he offer you the proposition, I would like to know what your answer would be." Bellatrix was anxious. She wanted him to accept, but at the same time, she knew he was young and didn't want to place too much pressure on her son. It would be a great honor, but she wasn't sure if he could handle it.

"I would accept, mom," Mortemus said after a moment of thinking. Bellatrix nodded, and didn't pry. If he didn't want to share something, she would leave it, unless she sensed her son was in danger. Mortemus followed his mom down the stairs, to his aunt and uncle. They sat down, and placed privacy wards around the room.

"Mortemus, we have something to offer. You mother, however, believes that if we sent you, it would result in several dead bodies. Would you care to tell us why?"

"I would like to know this offer first. Then, I will decide."

"You must fetch a small vial of blood from Neville Longbottom Potter." Mortemus smirked.

"My mother was correct; it would result in several dead bodies. As to why, you will have to make an Unbreakable Vow if you wish for me to tell you." Lucius and Narcissa exchanged a skeptical look, but knelt on the floor, making a three way chain with Mortemus.

"Do you, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, swear, to never reveal what shall be said in this room?" Bellatrix whispered.

"We will." A thin line of gold shot from the end of her wand, twining around the trio's hands.

"And do you swear, that while we remain at this house, you will do your best to keep him from harm?"

"We will." Another line shot from her wand, interlinking with the other.

"I, Bellatrix Lestrange, hereby hold the last oath, and bring it in as a favor to be held." The lines faded, and Mortemus, Lucius, and Narcissa stood up. Mortemus sat next to his mother, and his aunt and uncle sat facing them.

"I am not Bellatrix's biological son. I was conceived, by Lily and James Potter." Narcissa gasped.

"You are not Bellatrix's son?" she asked, surprised. Mortemus snarled.

"I did not say that! I said that she did not conceive me!" Narcissa bowed her head, and Lucius put a hand on her shoulder.

"I am sorry Mortemus. How did you become adopted by my sister?" Mortemus sighed, and Bellatrix gave his hand a squeeze. He have her a grateful look, and started his story.

"Neville Longbottom was adopted by the Potters on Halloween. On that day, I became abandoned, and Lily Potter's relatives moved in. They beat me, and I won't go into details, but I bought my own wand, and learned to heal myself. I learned how to get them back, and I would hex them. I was found by my mother at the age of seven, and she offered to take me as the left had of the Dark Lord. She promised a better life, and I left with her. She preformed a ritual that made me her blood son, and I inherited several talents from her family. I am a parselmouth, probably from an ancestor of hers. I am gifted in healing, spell creation, and, odd as this may sound, magic I was told that my magical core is black, and is advanced, which is why I am able to do spells easily. Mother wants to find me a familiar, and we will visit Dagon Alley under glamours. Now, as to why there will be dead bodies, I cannot stand the Potters, and perhaps I would get carried away. If it is extremely necessary, then I will try not to maim them too much." Narcissa and Lucius were shell-shocked. This boy had stood though torture as a young kid, and now he had pledged himself to the Dark Lord.

"Thank you, Mortemus," Narcissa said quietly. "We need the blood to help the Dark Lord rise again." Instantly Mortemus straightened.

"I will go, but after I get my familiar."  
_

Mortemus had preformed many glamours on his mother, making them impossible to detect. He placed a slight cover on her magical core, dimming the silver glow. She now had hazel eyes, and dirty blond hair that fell in waves. There were a few freckles scattered across her face. She was dressed in dark brown robes, almost black, with deep ebony colored leaf designs on the bottom. Mortemus preferred her in her simple black dress, the one with the flowing sleeves, or her silver-gray robes with intricate designs. He felt it fit her personality more; she was regal, but soft and deadly, slightly mysterious, and caring only to those important to her. He liked her elegant curls, and her piercing black eyes. His eyes were exactly like hers, and he had inherited some of her dark personality. They were currently strolling down Diagon Alley, when a tall man with a long white beard came striding down the road. Many people made way for him, and he radiated a kind of light power, but deep underneath, Mortemus' magical ability allowed him to see the want for power that had been locked up, but not forgotten. He gave a growl. This was Albus Dumbledore, the person who had made six years of his life a living hell.

"Hello, madam." The man stopped in front of the. Mortemus hid his hate and put up a façade.

"Good afternoon sir," Mortemus replied politely. He saw his mother squash her dislike and put up an emotionless mask, expertly hiding her feelings. He inwardly smirked.

"You will be attending Hogwarts next year, if I'm not mistaken?" Dumbledore asked. Mortemus gave a silent growl. He heard his mother answer.

"Professor Dumbledore, we have not decided yet. We are currently making a decision between Durmstrang and Hogwarts. I assure you that we will owl you with our decision when we are ready." Her words held a threat that she made sure only her son could hear and understand. Dumbledore gave a nod.

"May I know your names so I can know what to look out for?" Mortemus remembered the story they had come up with.

"I am Isabella Altitudo, and this is my son, Jason," Bellatrix replied. "I'm sorry to cut our conversation short, headmaster, but we must be on our way. Please excuse us." She steered Mortemus into Magical Menagerie, and headed to the snake section. Harry let out a hiss.

_I am looking for a familiar to serve and bond with me, who will protect me, and will help channel magic._ Which of you is able? A large snake, about five feet long, and two and half inches wide slithered up to him.

_My name isss Artemisssia, speaker. I am named for the sssilver moon, withhh my green ssscalesss and sssilver markingsss on my faccce. I ammm a magicccal inlanddd taipan, with venom and loyalty to my companionnn._

_Artemisssa, I bond you to me as an equal, and a companionnn worthy of Artemisss herssselfff._ Artemisia bowed her head, and slithered up Mortemus' arm. She settled contentedly on his shoulder around his neck.

_It would be wissse to keep you withhh me asss muchhh asss possssssible. I will alwaysss protect you, massster._

_Call me Mortemusss; a companion asss powerful asss you ssshould never bow to anyone._

_Yesss Mortemusss._  
_

Bellatrix watched in pride as she saw her son pick out the perfect snake. She turned to shop keeper who was looking at him with fear.

"How much for the snake?" she asked. The store keeper looked up at her.

"Have her f-for free, madam." The she scrambled away. Bellatrix suspected that she was afraid of her son's display of parseltounge, and couldn't help but smirk. She walked over to Mortemus.

"What is her name, Mortemus?" she asked.

_I ammm Artemisssia, mother of the ssspeaker. Artemisia gave Bellatrix a slight bow._ "Her name is Artemisia," Mortemus said, throwing his mom a smirk. "So, dear mother of mine, I take it no money is needed." It was a statement, not a question. Bellatrix smiled, not bothering to reprimand him for the comment.

"No, none is needed. We should be heading back now. Have Artemisia hide underneath your robes; she can coil around you." Bellatrix was not worried; the control she had seen and the obvious respect that Artemisia held for her son was enough to reassure her that she would be a worthy companion for him. She watched as the snake slithered under and was satisfied when not a trace of it was seen. "Come, Mortemus. Narcissa will want you to start your task as soon as possible." She grabbed his hand, and they apparated away.  
_

Mortemus was currently hiding with a disillusionment charm placed on him. The wards, which had recognized him from long ago, had automatically rekeyed him. He was standing by the back wall, watching a boy fly around on a broomstick. He was surprisingly skinny, but what had angered Mortemus was the fact that he now looked like James' and Lily's biological son, which could only have meant that they had performed a blood bonding ritual. He noticed with some satisfaction that Dursleys were no longer residing at the Potter mansion. Artemisia slid onto his arm. He hissed at her.

_Artemisssia, your fffangsss are hollowww, correct?_

_Yesss, massster Mortemusss._

_How many timesss must I asssk you to reffffrain fffrom calling me that?!_

_Asss many asss it takesss, massster Mortemusss._

_Cheek! You mussst go and bite the boy, but do not poison him. Give him a sssmall nip and store the blood in your fffangsss. I require it fffor a ssserviccce._

_Yesss massster Mortemusss._ Mortemus gave a growl, and recieved what could only be a smirk in reply. He watched as she discreetly came behind the boy, and quickly nipped the back of his leg. She vanished into the bushes, slithering over to Mortemus. He quickly took out a vial, and making sure that Artemisia could see it, let her deposit the blood into it. He smiled in triumph. Letting her slither onto his arm, he ran from the property, heading towards the point where he would meet his mom. He spotted her in the distance, and ran harder. He was grateful for the three years of training that he had recieved from his mom. She had taught him all the branches of magic, all up to fourth year level. Their mock duels had built up his endurance. Reaching her, after sprinting half a mile, he wasn't even winded.

"Let's go," he said. Bellatrix nodded. They apparated back to the Malfoy Manor, and headed to the ritual chamber. Narcissa and Lucius were waiting for them.

"Do you have it?" they asked in unison.

"Yes," Mortemus replied.

"Good, said Narcissa. She motioned towards the corner, and Peter Pettigrew, the one who had betrayed the Longbottoms, stepped out from the shadows.

"I am ready," he said, pulling out a dagger.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son.  
Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master.  
Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe."

With each line, he dropped something in the cauldron that stood in the middle of the room. The first, was an old, cracked bone. The second was the hand he cut off. He whimpered, but continued. Finally, he uncorked the vial, and poured the blood in. Immediately, black smoke began to fill the room. Bellatrix grabbed her son, and, using the smoke as a screen to keep up her façade of being cold to everyone, hugged her son tightly. Then she released him, and stood by his side. Mortemus heard a high, cold laugh. A rush of thrilling and exhilaration rushed through him, as he reveled in the fact that he had helped with his master's return. He heard his mother suck in her breath, and saw the way her eyes gleamed. This was the moment they had waited for. The smoke slowly dissipated, and Mortemus saw a tall man standing, dressed in robes as dark as night. Immediately, they all knelt, keeping their heads bowed as the Dark Lord approached.

"Ahh, how good it feels to have a body. You have done well, my followers, to initiate this ceremony. I see an addition in your ranks." Mortemus raised his head, and met the Dark Lord's gaze. He marveled at the power he radiated, and saw his dark gray core, focused with immense magic.

_Whhho are you, young one?_

_My lord, I ammm Mortemusss, the son of Bellatrixxx Lessstrange. _Mortemus had not realized that he was using Parseltounge, until he saw the Dark Lord give him an inquisitive look. Suddenly, Artemisia sprang from his arm. Mortemus watched, horrified, until she headed for the large snake coiling around the Dark Lord's feet.

_Whhho are you, protector of thhhe Dark Lord?_

_I am Nagini, young Artemisia._

_Hhhow do you knowww whhho I am? _Artemisia asked in confusion.

_I am your mother._ Mortemus felt his jaw drop. He knew that if Voldemort didn't have the image of a Dark Lord to keep up, he would have let his shock show. Instead, he gave a thin smile.


	3. Capture

Mortemus laughed. Shooting a curse at an unsuspecting Order member, he danced out of their way, then spun to fire in another direction. As he dueled, he ended up by his mother, who was battling five, as he was dueling three. All of them seemed shocked that a boy of eleven could hold their most skilled fighters at bay. Mortemus growled as he realized that they were holding back. He smirked, and glanced at his mother, putting up a lazy shield charm wordlessly as a stunner was sent his way. She nodded her consent, and his smirk turned into a grin.

"Crucio!" he roared, but focused on a different spell, changing the color of its magical aura. The three wizards looked at him in shock, and began dueling their hardest. Mortemus dodged and countered each spell with ease, occasionally stopping for a quick yawn. "Is that all you can do?" he taunted. One of the wizards shot a cutting curse at him, but his anger blinded him, and Mortemus cast a quick shield charm that caused the curse to rebound, slicing the wizard's torso. The other two looked at him in fear, wondering who this boy was. They quickly turned tail and ran, and he heard a faint pop as they disapparated from the headquarters. Mortemus turned to his mom just in time to see her blast her opponents back. Two of them died instantly from the force, which had snapped their necks, and the other three had shards of glass covering from their body. Bellatrix laughed, and left them to their slow death.

"If you would, Mortemus, she said to him. He smirked again.

"Morsemodre!" he yelled, causing the Dark Mark to appear in the sky. There were few survivors and all who had made it had disapparated. Suddenly, they heard a shout.

"YOU!" screeched Lily Potter. She threw a curse at Bellatrix, who stretched lazily as she put up a shield charm.

"Now, now, Potter, that wasn't very nice, was it?" she asked tauntingly. Lily screamed in rage. She turned to Mortemus and shot a wide variety of jinxes, curses, and hexes at him. They all ricocheted from the silent shield charm he had put up. Mortemus narrowed his eyes in rage.

"Well, you are the same selfish, betraying, unloving bi-" He was cut off by Bellatrix.

"Language, Mortemus, she reminded him, in a mock serious voice. "We don't want the mudblood to become more contaminated than she already is, do we?" As she was speaking, all the death eaters had lined up behind her and Mortemus, clearly acknowledging them as the leaders of the group.

"Shut UP!" Lily yelled.

"No, you haven't changed," mused Mortemus, a thoughtful expression playing on his face. It changed to one void of emotion. "Do you see now, Lily Potter? Do you understand? I pity Harry, having to grow up with no one but the werewolves. Can you imagine that, Lily Potter?"

"Tsk, tsk, Mortemus, what have I taught you about self-pity?" asked Bellatrix. Mortemus lifted his head to meet Lily's gaze. It was filled with hatred, but that only seemed to amuse Mortemus. Suddenly, he flicked his wand, silently disarming her. He caught her wand.

"You have told me, that it is weak, and dishonorable, and that it is for those too cowardly to face their problems," stated Mortemus in an even tone, though there was a hint of cruel laughter underneath. He smirked as he saw Lily Potter put the pieces together in her head, and saw her eyes widen in recognition. Many emotions flashed across her face. That was the worst thing she could have done. Mortemus took this as a sign of weakness. He had always been taught to never let his emotions show.

"H-harry?" she whispered. Mortemus glared at her.

"Harry Potter died on the day that he was abandoned for Neville Longbottom, a boy who should have died by the Dark Lord's hands. There is no Harry Potter, Lily Evans Potter." Lily sobbed as she realized what her son had become.

"My-my son, I am sor-" Mortemus growled.

"I am not your son!" he yelled, letting loose a wave of magic. "Rodolphus, Yaxley, bind her. We will take her back to the manor. You have all done well tonight." He turned to Bellatrix.

"Wonderful job, my son," she said, just to spite the mudblood. "Come. We shall report to the Dark Lord." Mortemus gave a nod, and grabbed her arm. The reappeared inside the wards, which had automatically keyed them in.

"Cissy!" Bellatrix called. Narcissa came running to door, sighing in relief as she saw who it was.

"Bella, come in. The Dark Lord is waiting." Bellatrix nodded, and stepped inside, with Mortemus in tow. They made their way to the "throne room" as they called it, with an arsenal of death eaters behind them, and Lily Potter being levitated in the middle. She kept letting out muffled whimpers, occasionally struggling with her bonds to no avail. Yaxley, the man who was keeping her in the air, purposely let her head bump the ceiling as they traipsed to down the levels. Eventually, they stopped by a large black door. Mortemus prodded Artemisia gently, waking his familiar from her sleep.

_Whhhat? she asked irritably. I am trying to sssleep!_

_Well, unlessssss you want to faccce the Dark Lord alone, I sssugessst you wake up quickly._

_Mortemusss, whhhy didn't you wake me earlier?_ demanded Artemisia. Mortemus just rolled his eyes, and stepped into the room, followed by his mother.

"Ahh, I see your mission is complete. I trust you found the headquarters easily enough?" a high cold voice asked. Mortemus knelt, along with his mother. "Rise, my followers." They stood, and took their places on either side of him.

"We have captured…a certain Order member, my lord," said Mortemus, smirking. He heard Voldemort's cold laugh echo around the room. Artemisia slithered off his shoulder, and headed for the large snake coiling around Voldemort's feet.

_Hello, mother._

_Artemisssia, how was the raid? Mortemus chose to insert himself into the conversation._

_You may be able to eat well, thessse nexxxt few daysss, Nagini_, said Mortemus, gesturing to the crumpled heap of clothes and flesh that was Lily Potter, as Voldemort spoke to his death eaters. He guessed that they had dropped her when they entered to room, and it looked as though they hadn't done it gently. He looked at Voldemort for permission, and he nodded, before resuming his conversation, or rather, his long list of orders and praises for the higher ranking death eaters. Mortemus flicked his wand, and Lily's bindings were released, as well as her gag.

"Well, Lily Potter? Take your best shot," Mortemus said, taunting her.

"Harry, I-I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. I-I didn't mean to-" Mortemus laughed.

"You didn't mean to what? Abandon me for the boy who shouldn't even be alive?" At this, a flash of rage sparked in Lily's eyes.

"He was your brother!" she shouted. "We did a blood adoption, and he was part of our family! How could you just treat him like that?! What's worse, how could you join the people that tried to kill him? I admit that we were wrong about my sister, but how could you blame it on Neville?" Mortemus snarled. He flicked his hand, and all the death eaters stowed their wands.

"How? Because no matter what you do, no matter how many times you put our blood in his veins, he will never be my brother, just as they will never be my family. So, you decide to come looking only after the one you neglected is gone. That really shows your caring personality, Lily Potter. And, I never blamed it on him. I told you the truth. Go look in his closet, on the highest shelf, up in the corner. Or, better yet, take his memories. You see, Lily Potter, the pathetic fool you believe so much in was only someone with a bit of luck, and a spoiled fu-rotten brat," Mortemus amended, seeing the look his mother was shooting him. "He only wanted attention, and did not know real power. No, the fool only saw what he wanted to see, not what was real. He was safe, he was happy. That's all about to change. Get up, Lily Potter, and show me what you are made of." He tossed her her wand. "Get up!" he shouted. Lily slowly pushed herself off the floor. Voldemort looked on with glee, seeing someone so young, hold so much power, and it was Bella's son at that! Mortemus stood with his arms outstretched.

"Take your best shot," he whispered.

"Impedimenta!" Lily shrieked. Mortemus lazily flicked his wand, causing the spell to rebound and forcing her to duck. He dropped his arms, and began shooting a series of hexes at her, all of them ones that would cause severe pain, but were not in the least bit fatal. She tried to dodge them, but when one hit her shoulder, she cried out in pain. Attempting to put up a shield charm, she straightened, only to have another hex break through the weak shield she had created. More followed, until she lay curled on the floor, sobbing. Mortemus was wearing an emotionless mask.

"Pathetic," he said, looking down at her with contempt. "I cannot believe that I was once related to a weakling like you." He strode forward, and kicked her in the ribs. She cried out.

"Young Master, are you sure that was sanitary?" a young death eater yelled. Mortemus put on a faux horrified expression.

"Oh, thank you for reminding me! What do they say nowadays? Right, ten points to the house of Slytherin!" Laughter echoed around the room. He bent down, a sadistic smile on his face. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, for lack of respect, and plain weakness," he whispered. It was silent in the room now. Mortemus straightened and snapped his fingers.

"Uncle Lucius and Aunt Narcissa, please have Uncle Severus bind her and put her in the dungeons. We aren't done yet."  
§oO~Oo§  
Severus showed no emotion as he dragged his once-best-friend down to the dungeons.

"Why, Severus?" she pleaded. "Why?" He suddenly turned on her.

"You want to know why? Well, Potter, you stopped sticking up for me in fifth year. You know, I loved you with all my heart, and the reason I hung out with 'that lot' is because you were always to busy with your friends to care. Then you married that arrogant brat, and pampered him with everything. You got a wonderful childhood, and a happy ever after, while I was stuck in the shadows, trying so hard to have you bring me into your 'halo of light'. Furthermore, I am disgusted with how you treated Mortemus. It must have been pretty bad to have a seven year old want to leave home. Of course, it probably wasn't home to him. Now you come crawling back after six years of abuse, and you expect everything to be alright!"

"I didn't know, Severus! I thought he was happy! I thought he liked the privacy because he always spent time in his room!"

"You fool! You never once thought to ask him why? Did it ever cross your mind that, perhaps, by any chance, by even the slightest bit, that he was uncomfortable around you? Did you ever think, that maybe, it was too dangerous to let him roam the woods behind your house? Oh yes, Potter, I know. You obviously never saw him! You never saw that he had to teach himself to deal with pain! You know, I was a spy for you because I cared, but the moment that I saw Mortemus by his mother's side," at this, Lily flinched, "I knew that you were not the person I thought you were. I confessed to the Dark Lord, and he punished me, but all this time, I have been giving him information in the hopes that you would get what you deserve!" he spat. "Grow up, Lily Potter!" Lily was openly sobbing on the floor now. She tried to grab his robes, but he kicked her away. "You were never there for me, so tell me why I should comfort you now!" He shoved her into the dungeon, and turned to leave, ignoring her calls.  
§oO~Oo§  
Mortemus sat on his bed, thinking. It had been a successful day, and he had had revenge on one of the people who tortured him. He scowled as the memories came surging back, and felt anger course through him. He wished his mother was here, so he could tell her his problems. She was more than a thousand times the mother Lily Potter could ever be. He thought about the conversation he had had with the Dark Lord earlier, and remembered how he had told him that his time was coming. He sighed in frustration, wishing that it would come sooner. Artemisia sensed his distress, and from her place on the bed, lay her head on his lap.

_Whhhat'sss wrong, Mortemusss?_

_I cannot wait much longer, Artemisssia. They have not sssufffered enough._

_Do not worry, Mortemusss. Your time will come sssoon enough._

_No! It hasss already been too long! I want my revenge! They will sssufffer asss I did, and they will sssee what they did to me!_

_I will help you whhhen the time comes. No one hurtsss my massster and getsss away with it!_ Artemisia hissed. Mortemus sighed again, and stroked his familiar. The door to his room creaked open, and Bellatrix came in. She sat on the bed, and letting go of her cruel persona, engulfed him in a hug.

"How are you?" she asked, pulling away.

"I'm fine. I just need some time to think," he said. She nodded, and pushed him under the covers.

"Think later," she said. "You need to sleep." He nodded tiredly, and closed his eyes.

Sorry that it's short, but I couldn't really come up with much. Please review, because it gives me motivation, not to mention great ideas!


	4. Beginning of a journey

**Warning: intense language**

"WHAT?" Mortemus shouted. Everybody flinched. Even Bellatrix winced, and it took a lot to unsettle her. They were currently sitting in the parlor with the Malfoys. "I refuse to-to go to that piece of shit miserable excuse for a school!" Artemisia was the only one who was near him; in fact, she seemed like the only one who could calm him down. However, this time, the best she could do was desperately hiss at him, urging him to think logically.

"Mortemus, please, it is the best way for you to gain information for our cause. As the Dark Lord's left hand, you must uphold his image. Besides, you can have your revenge against them," Bellatrix said. Mortemus opened his mouth to object, but before he could get a sound out of it, Artemisia leapt, and coiled around his mouth. Mortemus reached up and tore her off.

"Who's bloody fucking side are you on?!" he screeched. Bellatrix didn't bother to reprimand him for his language.

"Mortemus, listen. If you attend Hogwarts, you will gain allies and information from right under the old coot's nose. You will be able to have revenge, and as Severus is a teacher, you will automatically have some leniency. If you grow close to the teachers, you will be able to find information that is closely guarded by them. You would be a spy, and one that outshines the rest. Think, Mortemus! If you complete your mission for this year, the Dark Lord will surely take you as his apprentice. It would be a great honor!" Bellatrix was practically panting with excitement. Mortemus considered it for a moment, then gave a reluctant nod, though his glare clearly said that he still didn't quite agree with these arrangements. Draco was bouncing up and down, but the withering look Mortemus shot him, made him stop immediately. Draco gave him a sheepish grin, but Mortemus' glare intensified, and the look vanished from his face.

"I will go, mum, but don't expect me to be so damn happy about it," he spat. She just shook her head with a small smile. Draco looked faintly impressed with his choice of words, but another glare sent him looking at the floor again. It was August twenty-ninth, and they had been about to leave for Diagon Alley so Draco could buy his school supplies. After Draco and his father had stepped through the floo, Bellatrix grabbed Mortemus' arm and dragged him out of the house.

"Where the fuck are we going?!" Mortemus yelled, seething. Again, Bellatrix did nothing to reprimand him. She knew it would be no use in this situation. "God damn it to hell, mum, WHERE THE BLOODY HELL ARE WE GOING?!" Mortemus screeched, and right in her ear at that. Bellatrix winced at the sheer volume, and decided to grace him with an answer.

"I don't think that we should floo. We are going to apparate instead," she told him, and he seemed to calm slightly, making her give an internal sigh of relief.

"Now, I would like to fucking know why I need to go to Diagon Alley when I literally have all of my school supplies, as well as a wand," Mortemus said. "I don't want a God damn owl, and as far as I care, the idiotic books we have to buy can go bitch in the seven levels of hell!" Bellatrix gave up. She simply pulled him up to her side as they passed the wards, and turned on the spot.

§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§

Had anyone been looking out of one of shops in Diagon Alley, they would have been met with a strange sight. It was not often that you saw the two Malfoys accompanied by a bright blue haired youth and his extremely red-headed mother. The contrasting colors clashed together, and the silvery–blond hair that the Malfoys had made the combination even worse. Mortemus had insisted on these glamours, saying that "no damn person would walk up to us now", to which Bellatrix had replied, "You are incorrect. No sane person would approach us." Of course, the minute they found a nook in the wall, Bellatrix changed her and her son's glamours to match the ones they had worn when they had met Dumbledore on their last trip. They had no doubt the headmaster would be in the alley, since today was the day he always made his extraction from Gringotts. True to their assumptions, the headmaster was there, striding towards Gringotts. Bellatrix sent her son a glare, and a warning glance before they stepped into the open. They walked towards the magical apothecary, just to pick up a spare cauldron, in case some idiot came down with the notion that his original needed to be blown up. Unfortunately, they were stopped by the 'old coot' Dumbledore.

"Ah, Isabella, Jason," he said, smiling jovially. Mortemus used every ounce of willpower not to sneer at him right there and then. He instinctively put up his occlumency shields. He was right in doing so, for not a moment later, the headmaster made eye contact with him and he felt a probing sensation painfully sting his mind. He effortlessly pushed it out, but it returned, and he instead directed it to his joy of flying, and gave him a memory of him doing dives on his broom. When the intruding sensation receded, he saw the headmaster seem rather shocked and disappointed. Behind his bright smile, Mortemus could see the suspicion and worry working the gears in his mind. He gave a smirk.

"Professor Dumbledore, I would appreciate it if you would refrain from attacking my mind, unless, of course, it is a normal tradition for you to do so to new students." The look on the old headmaster's face was priceless. Bellatrix sent him a glare, and Dumbledore put on an apologetic face.

"I am sorry, my boy, please excuse my curiosity," he said placatingly. Bellatrix narrowed her eyes.

"Headmaster, I would like to know the reasoning behind your attack on my son's mind. You have not answered whether or not it is a normal occurrence for you to probe students' minds," Bellatrix 'politely' said.

"Of course. I simply was curious as to why you have not reacted to the news in the papers," Dumbledore said. Mortemus could read people like books. Dumbledore was no exception, except for the fact that he was like a difficult plot. He needed to get past the extra information, then understand. Behind all of his barriers of lies and deceit, he was actually curious as to how they would react when they saw the Prophet, as they hadn't recieved their copy yet.

"Well, headmaster, I am afraid that I do not know what you are talking about," Bellatrix said coolly. Dumbledore wordlessly handed her the day's copy of The Daily Prophet. She quickly scanned the article, her eyes narrowing, then gave it to Mortemus.

The Return of the Dark Lord: Death Eater attack on Southern Village

Early this morning, in a small and little known village in the south, a band of Death Eaters raided the homes and  
banks. They escaped just before the aurors arrived, and the Dark Mark was once again, raised in the sky. This attack  
seems to have been well planned, as they looted the village exactly when the security systems were low, and the aurors  
were changing shifts. The bank was completely empty, and overall, there were twenty deaths, which is actually a lot compared to the crimes of the old. The houses were found burning, and several muggles had been injured. They had apparently heard the commotion and decided to come to explore. Their memories were obliviated, and we are working  
to rebuild the lives of those poor people. Our hearts go out to those who lost everything but their lives, and we mourn  
for the loss of those seven people. More information on page 4. Until next time, I, Rita Skeeter, wish you a safe life.

Mortemus inwardly smirked as he remembered the planning of the raid. They had wanted to strike somewhere remote, and gradually work their way towards the heart of the wizarding world. It seemed as though word had gotten out about their attack. The Dark Lord had wanted to keep the people in fear of what could come, and what better way than to show their strategic skills and indifference towards the loss of lives? At first he had not agreed, but when he realized that this was war, Mortemus had taken part in most of the planning. The Dark Lord had looked on, cold amusement in his eyes as he saw his youngest member come up with one of the best plans he had ever heard.

_Whhhat isss that sssmell?_ Artemisia poked her head out from his sleeve. Dumbledore gave a slight start when he saw her. Surprise shone in his eyes when Mortemus replied.

_Do not pay any attention to the old fffool. He isss only a thorn in our ssside._

_He sssmells of sssour fruitsss!_ Artemisia complained, burying her head in his robes. Dumbledore peered at her curiously.

"Is that a magical inland taipan?" he asked in wonder. Mortemus gave a short nod.

"Yes and she is my familiar," he replied, with a subtle touch of coldness.

"Already?" Dumbledore asked in surprise. "I believe it should take many years to develop that sort of bond between an animal and its master." Mortemus growled inside.

"Excuse me sir, but she is not my pet, and I am not her master. I do not command her, nor does she take orders from me. We are equals on the same level, as a human and their familiar should be," he said. Dumbledore gave him a look of a surprise.

"Of course," he said placatingly. "Well, I must be off now. It was nice seeing you again, my boy." With that, he strode towards Gringotts. Bellatrix hissed in anger. There were no words she could use, and Mortemus put a hand on her arm in comfort. They entered the apothecary, heading towards the cauldron section, where they would be meeting Draco.

§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§

Mortemus stuck his head out the window and waved to his mom, just before the train entered the tunnel. Mortemus sat down in his compartment, awaiting his friends. Well, to him, they were more followers, with the exception of Daphne and Blaise. He gently stroked Artemisia wondering vaguely what they had done with Lily Potter. She had been held there for almost a year, and there were no signs of a rescue party arriving any time soon. Just as he finished the thought, Daphne Greengrass, Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and Theodore Nott came traipsing into his compartment. Artemisia stuck her head out at the scents and heat radiating through the air. When she saw who it was, she let out a hiss. To the newcomers, it sounded threatening, but to Mortemus, it was a question.

_Why are they here?_

_They are my…friends, Artemisia._

_Well tell the ferret-boy to not use so–so much–whatever is in his hair! And tell the horse and pug faces to not use such strong scents! It burns!_ Mortemus let out a chuckle, to which he received an actual hiss of frustration. The five others looked nervous.

"Hello Mortemus," said Daphne, sitting down, along with everyone else. "Haven't seen you in a while." Mortemus gave her a nod and flashed a brilliant smile.

"Hello Draco, Blaise, Theodore. I trust you've been well?" Draco let out a snort.

"With all the profanities you were sprouting, not three days ago? I think I've been scarred for life," he retorted. Pansy let out a snigger, but a cool stare from Mortemus immediately shut her up.

"I'm sorry if I would rather be homeschooled than go to Hogwarts," he said. The others nodded fervently.

"So, how was your summer?" Daphne asked. Harry shot her a look. She blushed, and looked down.

"Aside from helping lead those idiots to raids? It was wonderful to have to train every other day," Mortemus said scathingly. "I simply love dodging curses for three hours! Did I mention that learning fourth year material was the best thing that ever happened to me? Well it's simply lovely! Would you like a demonstration?" Had anyone else been talking, the others would have been laughing at the least, and starting a fist fight at worst for disrespect. However, when Mortemus spoke, it was like someone had dropped the temperature by ten degrees. His cold stare was enough to unsettle the future Slytherins. Just as Draco opened his mouth, the compartment door slid open. There, in all his glory, stood Neville Longbottom–Potter. Behind him was a Weasley, and a bushy haired girl that looked way too bossy.

"Malfoy," the Weasley said. His voice was full of distaste.

"Ah, and the cowardly weasel finally comes out into the light. What's wrong? Your Weaslette sister not got enough money to come to Hogwarts? Are you taking charity from Potter?" taunted Draco.

"Draco, enough," ordered Mortemus. Draco was instantly quiet. It was obvious that the newcomers were surprised. "Potter is simply trying to be his arrogant self. As for the weasel, well, it is only natural for him to fraternize with a mudblood." The redheaded boy was shaking with anger, and the bushy haired witch looked confused. The best reaction was Neville. His face was flushed, and he had his wand out. Mortemus actually laughed. "You think you could be me in a duel? I am at the fourth year level in Hogwarts curriculum. I doubt that you would actually be able to shoot any form of sparks at me; however, I will play your little game. Stand up tall Neville Potter. I would like to see how long you could last before I humiliate you in front of your friends." Behind the trio, two red head boys walked up. It was obvious that they were also Weasleys, but for some strange reason, they shot their brother a look of hate. Mortemus instantly recognized them from his childhood. He gave an inward cheer. Outside, he kept his calm façade.

"Well, ickle Ronnikens finally found friends that he didn't bully," the one on the right said. Mortemus recognized him as Fred. The two third years raised their wands and lazily preformed the banishing charm, which sent the three trespassers out of the compartment. Blaise opened his mouth, probably to make a rude comment, but a raised hand from Mortemus caused him to close it with a snap.

"Hello, Gred, Forge. Do you remembered you 'adopted' brother?" Mortemus asked. The twins looked confused, but the three soon-to-be-Slytherins' eyes darkened in understanding, and at that moment, made a silent oath to include the twins in their group. Mortemus had had them all swear an unbreakable vow that stopped them from ever divulging information about him and anyone close to him before telling them of his past. Mortemus raised an eyebrow.

"Um, do we know you?" Fred asked in confusion. Mortemus let out an exaggerated sigh.

"No, you do not remember," he murmured. "Such a pity." The twins still had a look of utter confusion on their faces. Mortemus decided to toy with them for a moment.

"Alright. Let me give you some hints. One, he was the boy that you met in the back of the garden. Two, when you were eight and he was six, and too intelligent for his own age, you 'adopted' him by giving him a candy bar. Three, you befriended him because your family and his were being arseholes. Ring a bell?" Their faces showed understanding and more confusion.

"But, that was Harry, and he ran away after his…brother…" George trailed off, staring at Mortemus. "Hang on, kid, you look a lot like him. Same facial features, but slightly higher, and that hair…well it's not as messy, but still…" Fred took a close look. His eyes widened.

"Merlin," he breathed. "Are-are you…" Mortemus gave a short nod and indicated the spot in front of him. The twins were still staring in shock as they sat. Then, large grins spread on their faces.

"Wow! It–"

"–is you! We–"

"–haven't seen you–"

"–in four years!" the twins finished together.

"So what happened?" asked George. At this, all of the people in the compartment, minus the twins, smirked.

"Well, it's a long story," Mortemus began, leaning back. "I didn't run away, I was…taken in, if you will, by none other than Bellatrix Lestrange. She adopted me, and I go by Mortemus now. Now, before I tell you any more, I need an oath of silence from you. Swear to it." Fred and George exchanged glances, before raising their right hands.

"We, Fred and George Weasley, take an oath of silence to not reveal anything in this compartment on our magic and lives. So mote it be," they stated unanimously. Mortemus gave an approving nod before continuing.

"You can leave if you want after this. I am not holding you to stay here." He took a deep breath before his next statement. "I am the left hand of the Dark Lord, and third in command. I have led many raids, and yes, I have killed, but only because of defiance. I am not a sadist. If I deliver enough information, I will be taken on as his apprentice." Fred and George had their mouths open. Then, quite suddenly, they reached over and clapped him on the back.

"Good for you mate!" exclaimed George cheerfully. Mortemus peered around him and saw that his friends had shell–shocked looks. He was pretty sure that he was wearing the same expression. "I mean, I'm not a blood purist, but I understand his reason to kill muggles. They attacked our sister earlier this summer, and have been trying to prank us, just to humiliate us. What they don't know is that we are the masters of pranking. As for our parents, well, they've practically disowned us when we said that we didn't support the old coot. They refuse to believe that he is a power hungry, pompous, selfish, self-centered overgrown brat! They wouldn't believe me when I told them that the muggles who attacked Ginny were under the Imperius Curse. I know it doesn't seem plausible, but I saw the symptoms. Their eyes were completely glazed over, and there was absolutely no emotion in their voices. Besides, I heard them later discussing whether or not it was You-know-who, but they dismissed it later. It didn't feel, well dark. It was kind of like a half pure and half tainted magic was surrounding them. Anyway, I most definitely support you." Mortemus stared for a moment. Then his face broke into a grin even bigger than theirs.

"So, you'll join us?" he inquired. The twins nodded enthusiastically. "Excellent." Mortemus sat back. Draco and the others shot him surprised, but supportive looks. Daphne threw her feet into his lap, as she was the only one sitting next to him. On her left was Pansy, who gave her a jealous glare. Daphne smirked and leaned against her. The boys were seated across from them. Mortemus gave Daphne a mock offended look, then shoved her feet off, just as Pansy moved out from under her lean. Daphne fell to the floor with a very unladylike yelp. Mortemus chuckled, then offered his hand to her, which she gladly took. He pulled her up, and they suddenly found themselves face to face. Draco cleared his throat awkwardly, and Daphne sat down, blushing. Fred and George gave him mischievous grins, and Blaise laughed, but an icy glare quelled his mirth. The twins exchanged impressed looks, clearly surprised at the authority Mortemus held.

_I sssmell a weasssel._ Artemisia uncoiled from his arm and slithered onto his lap. 'Gred' and 'Forge' gave him slightly scared looks as Mortemus stroked her.

_No, Artemisssia. They are sssimply from my passst, old friendsss, ssshall we sssay._

_Well, tell them to keep their pawsss to themssselves. I sssenssse that they are planning sssomething._ Artemisia warned. Mortemus nodded.

_They ssseem ssscared offf you, Artemisssia._ Artemisia gave him the best satisfied expression she could muster, since snakes did not have many ways to show emotion. He laughed at her expression.

"Um, Mortemus, would that happen to–to be a magical inland taipan?" George asked nervously. Mortemus smirked.

"Yes, George, she is. I've had her for a year now. I would suggest that you call off the prank that you want to pull on the Slytherins tomorrow, since I do believe that you don't want to walk around with your skin stained with pink and purple hearts," Mortemus warned. He blushed, and his twin shot him an admiring look. Over the course of the next few hours, everybody talked comfortably. The trolley came by and everyone loaded themselves with sweets. Mortemus heard a faint sigh, and a head dropped onto his shoulder. He turned, and saw Daphne leaning against him, sound asleep. He shook his head, knowing full well that she had a crush on him. He lifted his hand, and everyone looked at him. He pressed a finger to his lips, smirking. He gently shook her awake. She yawned, looking around drowsily, then blushed as she realized where she was and what she was doing. Mortemus gave her a comforting smile, letting her know that it was fine. She gave a barely perceptible nod, then began chatting with Pansy. Mortemus sat watching everyone in the compartment with an amused expression on his face. Well after sunset, the train pulled into the Hogsmeade station. Mortemus lazily waved his wand, causing all of their trunks to float downwards and settle next to their respective owners. Fred and George shot him admiring grins, then strolled out of the compartment. Mortemus and his friends walked outside, hopping down the steps.

"Firs' years! This way!" a gruff voice shouted. Blaise wrinkled his nose.

"That's the game keeper," he said. "Apparently he was expelled in his third year, and they kept him around, since he's so useful." The emphasis on the last word was clearly laced with contempt. Mortemus gave a nod, then headed towards the boats. He dropped his trunk off where all the first years were supposed to, then turned to the lake. He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, that's gross." Daphne shuddered. The boats were dingy and small, and looked as though they would break apart at the slightest touch. Mortemus rolled his eyes at Draco's disgusted expression, and climbed in. His friends followed, albeit reluctantly. The boat gave a slight groan as it began to move, along with everyone else's. They sat for what felt like hours, until the fleet passed through a curtain of ivy. Hogwarts, in all its glory, stood before them, alight with bright glows from the torches that lined the top of the first, third, and fifth floors. Mortemus gave an unimpressed snort. If this was where he would be spending the next seven years…

§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§

"Abott, Hannah!" A plump, round faced girl walked forward nervously. She slipped the sorting hat onto her head, and a second later, it shouted,

"Hufflepuff!" The names went on and on, as Daphne and Draco were sorted into Slytherin.

"Lestrange, Mortemus!" There was a collective gasp around the hall, and then whispers were flying through the air. Mortemus ignored them as he strode forward confidently. He sat on the stool, and let the deputy headmistress put the hat on his head. A small, slightly reedy voice spoke in his ear.

"Ah, Harry James Potter arrives. Well, you most certainly have cunningness, and I see so much loyalty in you. Of course, it is dedicated to the Dark, therefore you would not fit in Hufflepuff, and there is a thirst for knowledge that would do you good if you were to placed in Ravenclaw. There is much courage, but I see it in a different form. You are tricky and deceiving, and, ah… You do not like the headmaster. I agree with you. He is much too manipulative. SLYTHERIN!" Mortemus slid off the stool, and walked to his house table. Several minutes later Theo, Pansy, and Blaise joined him.


	5. Classes of Entertainment

"Mr. Lestrange, please enlighten us with your knowledge of Transfiguration, as you seem to not need to pay attention, or attempt the spells I teach in this class." Mortemus looked up lazily at Professor McGonagall.

"Certainly, Professor," he replied, smirking. She inclined her head sharply, indicating that she really did mean what she said. "The art of Transfiguration is extremely complex, as it links the mental and physical aspects of a spell to form something completely different. Many people believe that to transfigure an object, you only need to picture the new result and feel that you can do it. This is an inaccurate idealism. You need to understand the anatomy of the object, and see the way it would change to fit your wants or needs. The mental part is the real focus for the transformation. When someone transfigures an object, they put their emotions into it, thinking that that will power the spell, thus completing the transformation; however, they are not focusing their magic into that particular aspect of their abilities. To transfigure an object, you must concentrate on the transformation, not as a whole, but as little parts gradually morphing into the desired object. Eventually, if practiced correctly, the technique will come subconsciously, having the witch or wizard focus without realizing it. Now, that is only the basics. There are much more complex theories and ways on, or to, transfiguring an object. Take this as an example. Aphiala." Mortemus pointed his wand at a rat scurrying around on Ron's desk. It morphed into a goblet immediately.

"What the bloody hell was that for?!" Ron shouted. McGonagall shot him a glare.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley." Mortemus smirked.

"Now, I focused on that spell, but, I injected feelings of happiness into my spell. That is another plausible theory on Transfiguration, as the emotion was focused into the spell. It completed the transformation correctly, although there was little to no focus on the desire for the object. That is the main difference between a failed transfiguration, and a successful one. Had I injected feelings of happiness into the spell, but not concentrated on using that to help power my spell, I would have failed. I saw some people trying to use their feelings of frustration to power their spells, although they were not focused on the intent. That may or may not have been conscious, but it affected their spell." Mortemus waved his wand and turned the goblet back into a rat. He sat down, inwardly cheering at the Transfiguration teacher's expression of shock.

"V-very good, Mr. Lestrange," she stammered. "Twenty points to Slytherin for that explanation, and another fifteen for preforming a second year spell." He nodded, and leaned back in his chair. All of the Gryffindors shot him looks filled with loathing.

Lord Voldemort ~ Lord Voldemort ~ Lord Voldemort ~

Mortemus yawned with boredom. Here he was in Charms while the teacher was attempting to teach the lot of bumbling idiots the charm to levitate an object. The boy sitting three seats down from him had managed to cause his feather to explode, and that, Mortemus thought, had to be a new all-time failure. He yawned again, then smirked as a thought came to him.

"Professor, if I may, I would like to explain the theory of Charms to better help my classmates," he requested politely. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Draco shoot him an admiring glance. Professor Flitwick nodded.

"Continue, Mr. Lestrange," he said with a slight bounce.

"The theory of Charms is much like Transfiguration; the basis is still the same, as you do need to understand the mental a physical aspects. Unlike Transfiguration, the physical part outweighs the mental part by a huge amount. In Transfiguration, you need an extremely large amount of focus on your spell, and you only need to be aware of the basic anatomy of your object. In Charms, you need to know exactly what you plan to do on the object you wish to spell. The mental part only requires a small amount of concentration on the spell, as your main focus is how your object will change. Now, with that being said, many people would argue that since you need to focus on the change of the object, the mental part is the largest aspect of the theory; however, the mental part of a spell is based on how much you focus on the spell, not the object. People would say that this is the same, but in reality, if you think about it enough, it is almost completely different." Mortemus waved his wand and muttered the incantation. "Wingardium Leviosa!" All of the feathers rose in the air and hovered there. He kept them aloft for a few moments, then set them down on the tables.

"Now, if you are attempting to use the charm on more than one object at the same time, then of course, the balance between the two main parts evens out, as you would require great focus to do that." He sat down as Flitwick gave him an impressed look.

"Very good, Mr. Lestrange! Take thirty points to Slytherin!" he exclaimed. Mortemus inclined his head slightly as he leaned back and smirked. Daphne smiled at him and walked over, taking the vacant seat next to him.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey yourself," Mortemus replied. She mock glared at him.

"Ha ha," she said sarcastically. They looked at each other and burst out laughing. When they had calmed, Daphne spoke again. "Thanks for the theory lesson. I don't think the Gryffindors will be able to learn from it, but it really helped me." Mortemus smiled.

"I hoped the Gryffindors would find it too confusing. Either way, I earned us a total of sixty-five points. It can't hurt if I answer all the questions as well. I bet Snape will be real good. He favors us snakes way too much, not that I'm complaining," he said. Daphne just smiled. She unconsciously moved her arm closer to his, and he absentmindedly rested his hand on hers. They sat in companionable silence, watching their peers try unsucessfully to complete the charm

He's cool; He's cool; He's cool;

"Mortemus, I just remembered something. You know that duel you had with the aurors about a year ago?" Daphne asked. Mortemus nodded. "Right, well, if you were only at fourth year level, then how could you be on par with three aurors?" Mortemus smirked.

"Well Daphne, if you remember correctly, you will also recall that I said I was at fourth year Hogwarts curriculum. All the other spells they teach us from that year onward are unnecessary, and I can learn them while I'm here. The other spells I know are dark, therefore, they are not taught here," he finished. Daphne blushed.

"Right," she said. "And, I just wanted to know, why did you invite the Weasley twins?"

"I invited them because in actuality, they are loyal to whoever treats them well, and I am returning a favor. It also helps that they don't seem to like Dumbledore much, nor his Order of Fried Chicken." She nodded.

"I see what you mean," she replied. An explosion went off on the other side of the room just as Severus Snape walked in.

"Now, if you all manage to quiet down for a moment, I just might be able to get three words through your thick heads. Potter," he said suddenly.

"Yes, sir?" he drawled lazily. Snape looked at him with disgust.

"What would I get if I added powdered root asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?" he asked.

"I don't know sir," he said, not really seeming to care.

"Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"I don't know sir."

"Potter, one more chance. What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?" Snape asked silkily.

"I don't know and I don't care," said Neville, not even bothering to look up.

"Professor, if I may, I would like to answer the questions and explain why they are used in the potions or certain situations," said Mortemus. Snape nodded. "Well, the answer to the first question would be a sleeping potion so powerful that it is called the Draught of Living Death. Now, this means that you will be put into a sleep-like trance, like you are being suspended between Life and Death. This is what led to its name. Asphodel is the a type of flower whose name means 'my regrets follow you to the grave'. Wormwood means absence, or bitter sorrow. These are the key ingredients to the potion, as it means 'I hold bitter sorrow as my regrets follow you the grave'. Many people take this potion and in their trance, they have enough consciousness so that their mind, however unaware, will be able to sort through their emotions and thoughts, enabling the drinker a clearer mind when the antidote is administered. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach from a goat, and, although this may sound weird, it is the cure to common poisons since a goat's stomach is actually very strong and can break many things down. Monkshood and Wolfsbane are the same plant, which also goes by aconite. It is used in the Wolfsbane potion, which makes a werewolf completely harmless if they take it in the week leading up to the full moon. Wolfsbane is an obvious enough name, and Monkshood just means that it puts them in a state of peace. Aconite, and it is the same as the two names I just listed, so don't get too confused, is a plant whose roots can be used for medicine, although too large of a dose is extremely poisonous. It is used to treat nerves and anything heart related, so the use is actually not clear in the potion, although the nerves carry signals from the brain, so this may be used to change the message being sent that tell the wolf to attack." Mortemus leaned back in his chair, smirking again.

"Excellent, Mr. Lestrange. Take forty points to Slytherin. Today we will be brewing the cure fore boils. Open your books to page six, and instructions will be on the board if you happen to be so incompetent that you cannot flip a cover." Mortemus sighed. Snape hadn't given his speech this year. He stood up, heating the cauldron. He stopped to let it simmer for four seconds, then heated it again. Picking up the Flobberworm Mucus and drizzling it into the cauldron, Mortemus wondered why anyone would want to pour this on themselves. He heated it again, and thought that, with a hint of sarcasm, that he now knew why it was a cure for boils.

"Draco, pass me the dried nettles, please," he called to his table mate. Draco looked up with a startled look.

"You're that far already?" he asked incredulously. Mortemus rolled his eyes.

"Draco, this is the most simple potion taught in the wizarding world. I cannot believe that people are only on step two."

"Mortemus, it's been three minutes."

"Well, then. Thanks," he added, sprinkling the dried nettles. The potion hissed, and he quickly heated it as to stop it from exploding. He'd learned the hard way about that step. Stopping for a few moments, he flexed his wrist. He waved his wand and crushed the snake fangs into a fine powder. Bellatrix had taught him a few potion tricks, saying that it was best to finely crush them, in stead of breaking them into small chunks with the mortar and pestle. Pouring them in, he let it simmer for two seconds, then quickly extinguished the heat. He dropped in to porcupine quills while yawning. It amazed him that everyone was barely past the Flobberworm Mucus. Mortemus vaguely wondered why it was so hard to heat a cauldron for others, when he did it effortlessly. Then he realized that it must have been his training. Potions was a branch of magic, and since he was gifted in magic, it came naturally to him. His core was now the size of a twenty year old's, and was brimming with dark magic. He dropped in the horned slugs, then heated the potion until it was pink. He let it simmer for fifteen minutes, flipping through his potions book as he did so, then extinguished the flame once again. Pouring it into a bottle, he pushed in the stopper and handed it to his professor, who had just walked past. He saw several people shoot him jealous looks, as he was the first one done, and Snape had just proclaimed to everyone that it was the best he had seen in years.

"Mortemus, take another ten points to Slytherin," said Snape.

"Thank you, professor," Mortemus replied. He wandered around the classroom until he came to Daphne.

"No, don't break them like that. If you want a better potion, crush them. You don't know the spell yet so use the mortar and pestle in a different way. Don't smash it on the fangs, start from one side and push down, twisting it. Do this all over, and then you can repeatedly tap the pestle into the mortar. That's the best you'll get." Daphne nodded.

"Thanks Mortemus. That's a good thing to remember." She followed his instructions, ending with a grainy powder instead of small chunks.

"Use the spoon to scrape it into the potion. People don't do that so their potion is imperfect, as they don't have enough fangs." He moved on and came to Blaise and Pansy.

"Don't just add fuel to the fire. If you use a firestone, it'll increase the temperature in the cauldron and won't change anything in the potion. If you want to use fuel, since firestones are actually hard to unstick, don't do it quickly and drop it in. Feed it to the fire and once you're sure that it's on fire, push it in, don't shove it." His friends nodded.

"Thanks!" Blaise called after him. Theo, he noticed, was doing everything correctly, but was doing it too slowly. He seemed to be trying too hard.

"Theo, I know you want to do it correctly, but if you continue at this pace, either you'll accidentally wait too long, or you won't finish. Everyone is twice as far as you." Theo glanced at the hourglass and his eyes widened.

"Damn! Thanks for reminding me Mortemus." Mortemus shot him an amused look. Ten minutes past the thirteenth hour found him in Herbology, listening to Sprout lecture about the importance of Herbology. He yawned, leaned against the wall, and stared out of the window, zoning out. His mind wandered to matters completely unrelated to the subject at hand.

"Mr. Lestrange, please explain the purpose of Herbology since you do not seem to listen to my lecture and take notes."

"Certainly, professor." Mortemus smirked. "Herbology is a much more subtle branch of magic. Since many people do not see the importance of plants, they disregard this subject and believe it to only be about getting dirty. That is not the case, since without the plants, many people would not have potions, Transfiguration, Charms, and almost all other branches of magic. First and foremost, the most obvious use of Herbology is potions. You need ingredients to brew potions, and over half are magical plants and animals. Also, although this knowledge is mostly known to only those who study this branch of magic, the first wands could only shoot sparks and move objects. The basic plants were thought to be only for decoration, but wizards accidentally discovered that there were some magical plants that did exactly what our wands to today. One turned you into a frog, and others preformed some charms, like the banishing one, or the sticking one. Each of our wands actually has the tiniest sliver from each of those base plants, the ones that preformed basic spells. It is implanted in the wood that our wands are made of, as those plants eventually all morphed with each other to form new plants and trees. Some are magical, some are not, and some have hidden magic buried extremely deep inside themselves. We are here to learn the uses of these plants, and by doing so, our knowledge of magic and spells subtly increases each time." He finished his lecture with another smirk and leaned back against the wall again. The Herbology professor had a shell-shocked look on her face.

"T-take thirty points to Slytherin for that detailed explanation. I don't think anyone has ever explained this subject to me in such a well informed way," she managed to get out. Mortemus nodded, giving her the same reaction that he had given to all his other teachers. Herbology was the last class he had, and he sighed with relief at the free period he had before dinner. After his class, he and his friends returned to the Slytherin common room.

"Ugh, I'm so glad we haven't had Defense yet. I don't think I could handle all the rubbish about the dark being evil," Draco said disgustedly. Mortemus smirked.

"Well, sorry to bust your bubble, but we have it first thing in the morning," he said. Draco groaned, much to the amusement of his friends. "It's a double period, and then after lunch, a free period, with a double period of History of Magic after that." At this, everyone but Mortemus sighed.

He's awesome; awesome; awesome

"We are here to learn the defense against the forces of evil that taint our world," said James.

"Pardon me, professor, but, would you allow me to give my opinion?" Mortemus asked. James gave a short nod, looking irritated.

"Evil and good are just idealisms, used to represent peoples views. The same is said for dark and light. They are ways of making people feel secure and right, just as morals are simply how people see things. You say the 'dark' doesn't have morals, but they believe that you don't. It is simple point-of-view. There is not good and bad, nor is there dark and light. There is power, and how people view it and choose to wield it. Defense against the Dark Arts is not for defense against the enemy; rather, it is a way of ensuring your safety." Mortemus sat down smirking. He knew he had put James in an impossible situation.

"That is correct," he said through gritted teeth. "However, what the Death Eaters do is disgusting; they take pleasure in abuse and pain." Mortemus was amused. This man was more stubborn than his mother.

"No, they do not. They take pleasure in making sure that punishments are dealt out correctly. Look me in the eye and tell me that you have never been satisfied to show someone 'their place'. As I understand it, you were quite hurtful and rude to Professor Snape. Also, the aurors use Unforgivables when they deem it 'necessary'. How is that different from Death Eaters? They actually hardly ever use those spells unless it is necessary. Granted, there are some who are insane from being in Azkaban, but most are actually fair. We are in a war; there are only two sides with different views. We are all fair in our own way, and we all have darkness inside. This all ties back to point of view. That is why I believe that this is not to defend ourselves from the Dark Arts; it is to defend ourselves in general, from all who wish to harm us."

"Hey! Lay off my dad!" called Neville. Mortemus turned to him, smirking.

"So, just because you're famous, your dad is a professor, you have almost all the teachers on your side, everything will always be done for you? Because, Neville Potter, that is not how things work." Neville was red faced with anger.

"I can fight!" he insisted. Mortemus' laughter rang around the room.

"Fine. We can set an example for our classmates, mmm? Let us duel." He shifted into attack position. Neville took out his wand, refusing to back down. A person in the back shouted, "You show him Neville!" No one else said anything. It was the Granger girl. "Potter, your girlfriend is supporting you. You don't want to mess up in front of her do you?" Not waiting for a response, he fired the first spell. It was a relatively easy jinx taught in second year. The first years would simply be studying 'dark tactics and how to defend themselves'. Neville just barely managed to dodge it. He raised his wand.

"Stunner!" he yelled. Nothing happened. Mortemus smirked.

"The incantation is 'Stupefy', brainiac," he taunted. "Impedimenta." He forced Neville to dodge again, and shot off a succession of hexes and jinxes.

"Shield! Protect! Cover!" Neville cried, waving his wand uselessly while trying to dodge them all. He managed somehow, mainly because he used three desks as temporary shields. Mortemus stopped his barrage and yawned.

"I believe this duel is over," he said, and walked calmly back to his seat.

"How dare you humiliate my son?!" James roared. Mortemus turned to him.

"If that was me on the receiving end, you wouldn't give a damn, professor. If you can deny it, look me in the eye and do so, otherwise admit that you are biased and will try to change. I do not appreciate neglect." His tone was colder than the ice in winter. James glared at him, but didn't say anything. He held the stare for a few moments, daring James silently to speak up. The professor gritted his teeth and walked over to check on his son, who was cowering behind a desk, completely unscathed.

* * *

If you look closely, you'll find that the line breaks say: Lord Voldemort ~ He's cool; He's awesome, awesome, awesome. :)


	6. Luna

The months blurred by, and soon, Hallowe'en was upon them. Golden-orange pumpkins decorated the halls, and bats flew in large glass, sphere-like cages. Fake skulls floated randomly down corridors, and small, glowing fairies flitted around the Great Hall. Mortemus sneered at a pumpkin that floated across his path.

"Honestly, it's like we're three," he drawled in annoyance. "Oh look, it's a floating pumpkin! It's such a wonder! I wonder if more magic can be done?!" Pansy sniggered.

"Watch it Parkinson," Mortemus snapped. "I don't need any of your immaturity tonight. It is not my fault that that accident in Potions occurred, nor should you believe so. I do believe that friends should not be idolized, do you not?" Pansy flushed, and Daphne shot her a triumphant look.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Pansy muttered. Mortemus snorted.

"As you wish," he said mockingly. Draco, Theo, and Blaise looked on with amused and slightly smug and satisfied expressions on their faces. Suddenly, a bat broke free from one of the cages, and fluttered around, screeching loudly. Mortemus yawned, and with a slightly disgusted expression on his face, flicked his wand at it and caused it to spontaneously combust. The ashes fell to the ground in front of him and he stepped over them, only to be met by Neville, Ron, and Hermione. He sighed. "This is getting rather old, Potter. We don't want this to end like last time now, do we?"

"You'll pay, Lestrange," Neville snarled. "You and your friends don't own the school, so don't act like you do!"

"Potter, neither do you," Mortemus pointed out with a yawn. "I'm pretty sure Dumbledore didn't die and make you headmaster, so don't act like you do," he mocked. "By the way, how's your mother?" Mortemus was expecting some kind of anger, or sorrow, but what he received was even better.

"Lily? I don't care about her. She left dad and me, and dad said she'd been cheating on him. After all, she was disappearing for long periods of time. I couldn't care less about what happened to her, and neither would dad. She could rot in a boiling pit of lava, for all I care." Mortemus was amused.

"Too respectable to swear, Potter? I am not surprised. You are not known for a dirty mouth, you are known for dirty deeds," he said. Neville flushed angrily.

"Stick it up your butt, Lestrange," he snarled. Mortemus regarded him in disgust.

"Please, refrain from speaking those kinds of thoughts. I assure you, I meant how you acted towards everybody else in the school, not what your disturbed mind was thinking."

"Hey, lay off him," Ron snapped. Mortemus turned towards him.

"I am not doing anything, merely trying to make my way to the Great Hall so I can complete my schedule of eating three meals a day, unlike you, Weasley, who aims for over ten."

"Shut up," Ron retorted.

"Oh, what a splendid insult," Mortemus drawled. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we'd like to join our housemates at the feast. Thank you." He pushed past the trio and headed into the Hall, the others traipsing in after him.

"I hope someone gets him good," Daphne seethed. "He should jump off the Astronomy Tower; maybe someone will notice and mark the spot on the ground. He'll be wonderfully famous then, just like he's always wanted." Everyone burst out laughing, and even Mortemus let out a chuckle. They walked in the hall, still chortling, then sat at the table. Draco, Blaise, and Pansy loaded their plates with more food than Mortemus was sure could fit into their stomachs. He cut himself a piece of turkey and scooped a few spoonfuls of mashed potato onto his plate, satisfied that that would be enough for now. Daphne scooted next to him, taking a small portion of macaroni, broccoli, chicken, and potatoes. She snorted as Draco choked on a piece of…well, neither of them were sure what he choked on, but it was still rather amusing to watch him flop around in his seat. Mortemus smirked and whispered and incantation under his breath. Draco gasped with relief, gulping great lungfuls of air as the clog disappeared.

"Daphne, have you seen Millicent lately?" Mortemus asked. Daphne frowned.

"Actually, no," she admitted. "I only see her in the common room as she gets up to go back to the dorm. She never sits with anyone. Wonder why."

"Hmm…" Mortemus made a discontented noise. Just as he was about to take a bite of his turkey, James Potter came running in, his robes flying behind him.

"Sorry I'm late," he panted, as he sprinted up to the staff table and dropped into his seat. Mortemus curled his lip into a sneer.

"I doubt that," he said. He looked down to realize that the piece of turkey had fallen onto his plate. He speared it onto his fork, and, just as he was about to open his mouth, the doors to the great hall burst open again, startling him into dropping his turkey again. Hagrid came stomping in, dripping wet from the rain outside.

"Sorry 'm late p'fessor," he grunted, as he clomped up to his seat at the end of the table. "I was tyrin' ter block the flood from the nor' side, and some o' the logs collapsed n'…" Mortemus rolled his eyes and once again, stuck his fork into the piece of turkey. He opened his mouth, bringing it up to his face when—

"Bloody hell!" he swore, dropping it again, all of his composure lost as Argus Filch came into the hall.

"WHAT IDIOT LET A TROLL INTO THE DUNGEONS?! I'LL HAVE YOU EXPELLED FOR GOOD! PEEVES, IF IT WAS YOU, YOU HAVE THREE SECONDS TO CONFESS BEFORE I—" That was as far as he got before pandemonium broke out in the hall. Students were screaming, and the professors were desperately trying to get everyone to calm down. The Slytherins were the only ones who sat calmly awaiting directions from their prefects, who stood up.

"Listen up! We will return to our common room calmly and quietly, and await further instruction from our head of house, Professor Snape!" Every Slytherin except for Mortemus and his group nodded obediently.

"I am not heading directly to the troll," Mortemus announced. "Sorry professors, but I'm not suicidal, thanks. I really enjoy being alive, although there are certain drawbacks, namely three Gryffindors who really annoy me." He turned and strode in the direction of the library. The others stared after him.

"Think we should follow?" Daphne asked. Pansy nodded. Draco looked uncertain.

"Maybe," he said. "What if we get caught?"

"We'll have a perfect excuse," Blaise pointed out.

"It couldn't hurt," agreed Theo. They all glanced at each other, then shrugged. Mortemus was just about to walk around the corner when they were met with the "golden trio" once again. He quickly back tracked, and motioned for everyone to be quiet.

"Come on," he heard Ron say. "I think she went this way." Neville sniggered.

"Boy is she gonna get it," he laughed.

"Just as long as we don't get into trouble," Hermione said, but she too held a mischievous grin on her face. "We can't directly attack the group, so we'll get them this way." Mortemus sucked in a breath.

"Millicent," he breathed. The others gasped behind him.

"But the troll," Draco whispered. Just then, the very thing they were discuss came rumbling along. They darted out and shot after the "golden trio". Ron, Hermione, and Neville seemed to be luring the troll to the girls bathroom.

"No," Daphne muttered. "No, they can't be doing that! We have to stop them!" Mortemus cursed under his breath. This would not end well. A roar came from the bathroom.

"Let's go," Mortemus said. The sprinted around the corner and nearly bumped into the trouble makers themselves.

"Have fun getting it out of there," Ron sneered. "We locked it in."

"You are coming with us," Mortemus said in a deadly voice. The three looked at him, all of their Gryffindor courage flung out the window. They exchanged frightened glances. Mortemus pulled out his wand and pointed it at them. "Immobolus." The three Gryffindors froze, unable to move. "Draco, Theo, take them along and put them in a stall. Pansy, alert the teachers, but take your time. Make sure to get Potter, McGonagall, Severus, and Dumbledore. We shall be done in about seven minutes, so attempt to time their arrival just after we finish. Blaise, Daphne, locate Millicent. Make sure she is in a state of sound mind. All of you minus Pansy keep an eye on these three. I will alert you when I am finished." Everyone nodded, and complied with his orders. Mortemus knew he had done the right thing by sending Pansy. That girl was a five star actress. "Stand back." They all hastily scrambled backwards, with the boys reluctantly dragging the three Gryffindors along.

"Reducto!" Mortemus yelled. The door was blasted apart; bits of wood flew everywhere. Mortemus stormed in. He held his wand up, spotting the troll immediately. He sent a silent stunning spell at it, hitting it directly in the back of the head. It spun around, swaying slightly, and gave a loud roar. Mortemus wordlessly three hexes in succession at it, then conjured a boulder and raised it up. He flicked his wand downwards, deliberately aiming so that it only clouted the troll on the side of its head. It groaned in pain, and shook its head in confusion. Mortemus was careful to keep all of his spells only up to third year level, and kept his range devoid of dark curses. The troll stumbled around confusedly, until Mortemus, sensing that his seven minutes was almost up, cast a blinding bright lumos. The light illuminated the area so brightly, it was impossible to see. In the confusion, he cast a bone breaking curse, aiming directly at its head. With a sickening crunch, the troll's skull shattered into a million pieces, instantly killing it. A moment afterwards, the teachers came rushing in, their wands out. Everyone slowly recovered, and when the dust cleared, the scene that stood before them was jaw-dropping.

"Potter, Weasley, Granger, Malfoy, Lestrange, Bulstrode, Greengrass, what happened here?!" The transfiguration yelled. Neville stepped forward, the jinx finally wearing off.

"These Slytherins here thought it would be funny to go after the troll, and we found them trapped in the bathroom. I killed the troll, while my friends were shielding the Slytherins. I am sorry for breaking the rules, but I didn't want anyone to get hurt, even the Slytherins." Professor McGonagall beamed.

"Well done! Mr. Potter, while I am upset that you broke the rules, and twenty points will be revoked for that, you have earned yourself and your house fifty—"

"Please pardon me Professor McGonagall," Mortemus interjected, bowing his head slightly. "But I believe you are mistaken. If I may, I would like to inform you of the recent events."

"Mr.…Lestrange,"—she spoke the name with hesitation, as though she wasn't sure whether or not to hate him, or sound indifferent—"do continue." Mortemus smirked.

"With all due respect, Professor, these idiotic Gryffindors were bullying a member of my house, and locked the troll inside the bathroom. I confronted them, and my friends kept them from interfering. Draco and Theo followed me in, bringing them with me. I made sure that no one was in any danger, by casting a protective charm over them, then blinded the troll, and dropped a large boulder on it's head." Of course, that last part had been left out, and the events had been slightly rearranged, but if it showed everyone how Neville Potter wasn't the brave hero they thought he was, it was most definitely worth it. "I am willing to verify the events under any truth serum, Professor." It would only make him confirm that it had happened, not in which order.

"I—I—"

"Fifteen points for each of the ones that helped Mr. Lestrange, and for our young prodigy here, take an extra fifty points," Snape said smoothly.

"Now Severus, that's hardly fair, as fifty points would have been enough," Dumbledore protested.

"Yeah, Sniv—Snape," snapped James.

"Oh? And, if it was really your son, Potter, who defeated the troll, what would you have done?" James gritted his teeth, knowing that what he would have done would have been much more than the amount of points awarded.

"Professors, I apologize for causing this mess in the bathroom, and for breaking the rules, and I appreciate the points awarded, although I am not sure of how deserving I was of them, but I would like to take my friends back to the common room so we can deal with this turn of events. Millicent is in shock, and I would like to verify her mental state before we go to Madam Pomfrey."

"Mr. Lestrange, are you sure that is wise? It would be best if you brought her up to Madam Pomfrey straight away," Professor McGonagall asked anxiously.

"I would prefer to surround her with familiar and harmless faces, to comfort her and bring her out of this state before I let her see someone she has never met. I do not know how she would react, and I am not doubting our matron's healing skills, but she is unpredictable in this state. We cannot be sure whether or not she will respond to Madam Pomfrey's actions, or lash out unexpectedly." With that, Mortemus bowed his head, and walked over to Millicent, putting an arm around her other shoulder, as Daphne was on the other side. Blaise was standing behind her, having ceased with his basic diagnostic spells that he had learned from Madam Pomfrey. It was no secret to his friends that he wanted to become a healer. Mortemus murmured soothing words to her as he led his friends out of the bathroom.

Four hours later, Mortemus walked out of the boys dormitories, having just renewed the wards around his area. He found Millicent sitting in a chair by the fire. The silver and green rug was pulled under her feet as she stared into the flames.

"Hey," she said quietly. Mortemus inclined his head, and took the chair on the other side.

"How are you faring?" he asked her gently. She gave a little laugh.

"You're always so formal," she giggled. Mortemus gave a small, genuine smile.

"It was how I was raised. I do not believe in this new age, but I believe in the next. Now, please, answer my question, before I subject you to Veritaserum. I do not appreciate my friends or any member of my house being bullied." Millicent's grin slipped.

"I'm still in a bit of shock," she admitted quietly.

"If you need us, we will be here," Mortemus said.

§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§

Mortemus glanced over at the doors of the hall, where a commotion was taking place. His eyes widened for a split second, before his cool mask of indifference and coldness was back in place. He saw seven Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Gryffindors ganging up on Millicent. By the looks of them, they were third and fifth years, and three of them had their wands drawn on her. He stood up, and raised his own. A loud bang and a shower of sparks emerged from the tip. Everyone quieted and looked at him. It was deathly silent in the hall.

"I will make something very clear right now," he said quietly, but everyone in the room heard him. "I refuse to tolerate any bullying, whether or not it is my house. I am not a bully; I am a person that defends my friends and house. I will defend any that are being bullied, and I would like to know where you all stand. I do not care that I was raised in a 'dark' family, and I do not care that most of you were raised in 'light' families. We simply stand on different sides of this war, and are told to oppose each other. I do not believe in light and dark, and I do not believe in good and bad; however, I do not follow in the belief of power. I believe in nothing, as we are all in a world of nothing absolute. I do not care about blood. I hate certain muggleborns, and certain muggles, but only because of what they have done against me. I will say one thing: there will be no discrimination because of our affiliation.  
Where do you stand?" He turned, and walked towards the hall doors. The seven people that were harassing Millicent scrambled aside. He extended his hand.

"Thanks," she said quietly. He gave a wan smile.

"I don't want you to turn out like others, and become a bully like them." She looked horrified.

"No, I don't want me to either," she replied, then grinned at her crude, but still correct grammar.

"Let's go." Mortemus pulled her up, and released her hands. They walked out of the doors.

§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§

Daphne was not normally a jealous person. In fact, she was considered to be reasonable and level-headed; however, watching Mortemus defend Millicent like that, then guiding her out of the hall was enough to send her into turmoil. It wasn't fair that she was getting his special attention, and that she was the subject of pity talks and sympathy. She knew that she shouldn't feel like this. It was unreasonable and stupid, but her tiny, small, miniature, ant sized, enormous, entirely obvious crush was definitely showing through. Pansy looked at her as she fumed, staring into space, and smirked. Oh, she was definitely jealous. Now all it took was getting her to admit it.

§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§–§

Luna Lovegood was a quiet, dreamy girl, who's 'imaginary' creatures were most certainly real. Granted, some of the information she helped publish in The Quibbler were a little off, but she was an open-minded person, and most certainly not a seer as some crazier people believed her to be. Right now though, she was entirely serious, and a little sad, too. The nargles whispered to her, saying that her father was dead, caught by a stray spell from aurors. She didn't want to believe it, being the person that she was, but the nargles never lied. She pushed her emotions away, and locked herself inside her mind, letting her dreamy state take over. It was better this way, she told herself. No one would know, and no one would care. It was just her. Then she dreamed. It wasn't a normal dream. She dreamt of a black haired boy, with dark eyes and high cheekbones. He was sitting in a classroom, alone, locking himself away, just as she had done. He had a blank, emotionless mask, but she suddenly found herself in his mind.

Darkness. She saw hate, anger, dislike, and pride, but the most curious thing was there was absolutely no regret. Not a trace of remorse touched his mind. She saw pride in his mother, and in himself, deep hatred for his enemies, anger and a hunger for revenge, dislike for the idealisms that people held, but as she looked deeper, she saw pain fueling every single emotion. She smiled to herself. She would find this dark haired boy. It was not often that the nargles shared something with her through the wrackspurts, but when they did, it was to be considered and acknowledged. She was shocked when the boy smiled at her in his mind.

_"I know you're there," he said. "I may as well speak to you as my familiar is asleep. Who are you?"_

_"I-I—my name is Luna. I am the pureblood daughter of Xenophilous Lovegood. Blood doesn't matter to me though."_

_"Do not worry. I do not care for it either. My name is Mortemus Lestrange, and I was the one that organized your father's guard. The aurors were planning to kill your father slowly to make him pay for insulting the minister so blatantly. I am sorry that he did not live as I intended. If I had known that so many were coming, I would have sent more Death Eaters. I hope his death was quick."_

_"I believe it was." Luna felt a very controlled amount of concern from the boy._

_"I hope you are alright. Could you answer one question for me? I need to know if my mother is unhurt. She is the one that rescued me when I was young, and was part of the group that protected you father."_

_"She—I do not believe she was harmed. The wrackspurts that are letting us connect, which is almost stranger than heliopaths playing in water, are showing me that she is safe at home and anxious to see you for Christmas."_

_"I will see her sooner. I am leaving the school tomorrow until April, at least, in a sense. I will still be here, but as far as everyone is concerned, I will be abroad, doing research for an early potions degree. Before I reveal anymore, I would like to know whether or not I can trust you."_

_"You have my word."_

_"I just realized, we may share the same beliefs. I spotted a Crumple-Horned-Snorkack the other day on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, just as the trees met the mountains. Back to the discussion at hand: I will be at school, attempting to find a way to destroy the Sorcerer's Stone."_

_"That is rather smart. You will have to show me that memory sometime, of the sighting, I mean."_

_"I can show you know, if you would prefer." Luna was shocked._

_"Y-yes, that I'd like that very much." Luna watched, speechless, as a scene began to develop in her mind. She saw the very creature she had been looking for for years, with the crumpled-looking, but smooth and ringed horn, and the shimmering silver coat that layered on the pegasus–dragon body. What shocked her even more was when she walked forward, and reached out, petting it. The fur was like silk, and the scales as hard as diamond. They melted into each other at the change line at the waist, where the dragon's tail protruded. The creature was so strange, and yet so beautiful at the same time. The image disappeared from her head, and she was back in Mortemus' mind, and yet, still able to see him sitting on the desk._

_"Thank you."_

_"It was nothing. I would just like to warn you, that someone is on their way to pick you up. Do not panic, and I will see you soon."_


End file.
